by Susan Illene
Bartol was strong but not strong enough to take on an archangel.
She moved to her mate’s side and put a gentle hand on his forearm. “Let’s just hear him out. Worst case scenario we can always call for backup later.”
With their friends, they could take this man down if necessary—and his buddies, too.
Bartol continued to stare hard at the archangel, his hand shaking as he grasped the shirt tightly. He might have personal space issues under normal circumstances, but not if his temper got the better of him. Finally, he loosened his grasp one finger at a time.
“This had better be good.”
Chapter 5
Cori
They settled into Bartol’s kitchen. It was smaller than hers with cheaper construction and laminate counters, but he kept it immaculately clean. Not even a speck of dust dared show itself in her mate’s home since he cleaned it constantly to keep his mind off his experiences in Purgatory. A small table stood in the middle where he usually ate by himself except when he came to her place for meals. His home was sparse with none of the touches that should have made it feel more like someone lived there. He had furniture, of course, but no design theme, photos, or memorabilia. It was barely a step above a prison cell.
Cori wished he’d let the cabin go and move into hers. Since her ex-husband had burned down the original last year and a new one was built in its place, she had plenty of room for Bartol and their growing family. He’d just resisted that step so far.
She drummed her fingers on the table as they waited for the archangel to arrive. He’d allowed them time to get to Bartol’s place while he and his people finished at the bank and removed people’s memories of the demon incident. Cori was going to have to go back later to finish her deposit.
“We could have had him meet at my place,” she said, glancing at Bartol.
He had a glass of water in front of him that he restlessly turned in his hand. “I don’t want him there.”
“It’s not like he wouldn’t have been able to find it. And anyway, I’ve got more food there.” She might not be able to eat much at a time these days, but she snacked as much as possible.
He gave her a concerned look. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m pretty much always hungry.”
Bartol got up and rummaged through one of his cabinets, pulling out a box of cereal. It was one of the plain brands that was healthy but lacked taste. “I have this.”
“How about cardboard instead?”
His shoulders sagged. “I have milk as well if you’d prefer that.”
The man hated going shopping so much that his kitchen rarely had much food in it unless she brought some groceries over. “Milk is fine. It will hold me over for now.”
He nodded, pleased he could offer her something and set about pouring a glass for her. She found him such a contradiction. Bartol wanted to be useful, but the man had no clue how to go about it with his limitations. Cori wished she could find the right way to help him along so they could attempt living a normal life together.
“Did you get a gift for the baby yet?” she asked as he handed her the milk.
“No.” He shook his head. “Not yet.”
It was a task she’d given him in the hopes it would help him feel more a part of the preparations for their child’s impending arrival. Her mother had already done up the nursery as soon as she’d found out Cori was pregnant, but Joy had left the clothes and toys for others to buy. She knew she’d crossed a line doing as much as she did, though it did make things easier for them, so they couldn’t complain too much.
“Try to do that soon.”
He settled into his chair again while she drank her milk. “I’ve no idea what to get the baby.”
“It helps if you actually go into a store or online to look.”
His lips formed a thin line. “You know I hate shopping, and the internet is still beyond me.”
They’d all given him lessons in how to operate a computer, and he knew the basics. He just still resisted using it. It was a small miracle when he started making phone calls without them forcing his hand. The poor man missed the one century where technology had developed the fastest, and he remained lost much of the time. It had only been a little over a year since his return, which wasn’t a lot of time to reintegrate for someone who lived like a hermit.
“Then your gift will mean that much more because of the effort you’ll have to go through to get it.” Cori smiled gently at him. “And I’ll be sure to tell our son or daughter all about it once they’re old enough.”
He stared at her. “You’re merciless.”
“I know.”
A flash of light appeared between the kitchen and living room. She and Bartol leaped to their feet and moved closer to each other. They’d been playing it cool while waiting, having raged already during the drive to his place, but both were angry now that the subject of their ire had arrived. How dare this guy use the lure of their child’s fate to make them hear out a deal?
“Before you say anything else, let’s start with your name,” Cori suggested.
He tipped his cowboy hat. “Jeriel.”
“Very well, Jeriel, what do you want and why does it involve my child?” Bartol asked, his tone deadly cold.
“More or less what you already did at the bank, but on a more regular basis.”
Cori frowned. “Fighting demons?”
“That’s right.” He leaned against the wall and cocked a foot over the other one. “I’ve been assigned the new role of running Heaven’s operations on Earth. It’s my job to clean up the messes as they come—such as demons running around robbing human institutions. But as you know, I can’t go after them directly, so it is within my purview to assign anyone with angel blood to do the tasks that I can’t. Your mate is the best candidate for this particular job.”
“I’ve got more important things to do,” Bartol growled.
Jeriel arched his red brows. “You do realize your future offspring will be considered a nerou, right? And what are all the nerou doing right now and in the future?”
Bartol took a step toward the archangel. “You wouldn’t put my child through that.”
“It isn’t my decision.”
“They’re training to be enforcers against supernatural,” Cori replied, dismay in her voice as she considered the implications. “But this is different. Things have changed.”
“Not that much,” Jeriel said, a hint of sympathy entering his gaze.
Cori wondered if he was faking it. “Surely this is different.”
Offspring of nephilim and sensors hadn’t had a choice about how they lived their lives in the past, but she’d hoped that would change now that they lived on Earth and were proving to be good, productive people. Of course, they only got to stay after Melena and others had made a deal early last year to keep them free. The archangels considered the nerou’s extraordinary abilities a threat unless harnessed properly, so they’d made conditions no one could refuse. Giving them the job of enforcers was a way to keep them in line and focused after their training was complete.
Bartol clutched the kitchen table, gripping it so hard it started to crack under the pressure. “Remiel didn’t mention any of this when he said Cori and I would be allowed to be together with Heaven’s blessing.”
“She wasn’t pregnant then, and your offspring wasn’t part of the arrangement.”
Something occurred to Cori then. “There aren’t enough nerou around to enforce all the supernaturals on the planet, are there? And except for Tormod, none of them are fully immortal. You guys want us to make more of them for future use, don’t you?”
“Perhaps.” Jeriel worked his jaw. “That is a consideration.”
The kitchen table cracked in half. Bartol usually kept his temper under tight control, but when it came to Cori and their child, he had a harder time holding himself together. “My child is not up for negotiation.”
She hugged her belly. The innocent life inside her hadn’t e
ven drawn its first breath and already his or her fate was being decided. She’d truly thought they would be given a pass, considering the angels had admitted their mistake with Bartol and the extensive torture he’d endured in Purgatory. They’d wanted him confined as punishment, but they hadn’t meant for the guardian charged with watching over nephilim prisoners to inflict the terrible punishments he had. Kerbasi had been unapologetically dreadful back then, doing things that made the Inquisition pale by comparison. He’d been more than creative and brutally cruel.
“Work with me any time there is demon trouble…” Jeriel said, speaking plaintively to Bartol, “and I’ll ensure your child only has to work as an enforcer for one century—after he or she turns fifty years old. That’s enough time for them to grow up, go to college, and experience a bit of life first.”
Cori gritted her teeth. “That’s convenient, considering their abilities don’t even fully develop until they’re older. My child would be useless to you until then anyway.”
The archangel shrugged. “Still, a century is quite a bit less time than forever, especially because we suspect your offspring will be immortal.”
She shook her head. “But I’m not immortal yet, so how could my child be?”
The whole reason nerou were only long-lived, most surviving for a thousand years or so, was because one of their parents was mortal. Having one nephilim parent wasn’t enough in this case since the offspring only got a quarter angel blood.
“You’re close enough at this stage that with both parents as strong as you are, it is a distinct possibility.” He shrugged. “We’ll know for certain after you give birth.”
“I thought you all knew everything.”
Jeriel scratched the back of his head. “With humans, we do. Whenever angel blood is in the mix, things get murkier. We haven’t gotten guidance from above on the particular traits of your child’s nature, so we can only guess at this stage.”
“And if we don’t cooperate?” Bartol asked, glaring at the archangel.
“As soon as your child is weaned, it will suffer the fate of the rest of the nerou and reside in Purgatory until it is grown up and ready for training.” He gave them a pitying look. “I don’t make the rules, just enforce them.”
“You sorry sack of shit!” Cori screamed, coming around the table, ready to punch Jeriel.
Bartol grabbed her. “Don’t. You could harm the child.”
She was so angry she’d forgotten. Cori stopped struggling, but she still couldn’t stop cursing at the man before her. Bartol was pissed too, but holding her back was keeping him from going after the archangel himself.
“You’ve got twenty-four hours to decide,” Jeriel said, straightening from the wall. “I trust you’ll make the most of it.” A moment later, he flashed away, leaving them alone in the kitchen.
Cori’s throat tightened. “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Bartol shook his head. “But I’m going to talk to a few friends.”
“Maybe we could fight the angels,” she suggested.
“If it was only Jeriel and his minions, perhaps. But I suspect he could bring an army if necessary to take our child away, and we don’t have enough allies to win that battle.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “This isn’t fair.”
“I know.” He pulled her close with no hesitation this time. “But we’ll figure out something.”
Chapter 6
Bartol
He flashed to the lawn in front of Lucas and Melena’s house. Like he and Cori, the couple lived well outside of Fairbanks where they could have more privacy. Other than a generous front lawn and smaller backyard, their home was surrounded by evergreen trees with a long drive leading from the highway. The house itself stood two-stories tall with pale-yellow siding, a garage on one side, and a camper set next to it. A fallen archangel resided inside the RV. She rarely left it since her escape from Hell the previous year, which had left her emotionally scarred and distant. There were quite a few supernaturals with that problem these days, but Alaska was a good place to avoid the world.
Bartol rarely came to this place. There was a shed in the back where the guardian—a type of angel—who’d tortured him in Purgatory lived. Many claimed Kerbasi had improved himself over the last couple of years, but Bartol would never forgive him. Not only for the permanent burn scars on the left side of his face that looked like his skin was half-melted, but also for ruining every intimate memory he’d had in his life.
The guardian had a unique ability to enter minds and manipulate them. He’d used that power to twist Bartol’s recollections of his past into nightmare versions, which was what made it difficult to be close to anyone or make love to Cori. He would never be the same. Once a renowned lover, he could no longer kiss his mate without his gut twisting with anxiety and fear.
Midway up the porch steps, the aforementioned torturer came around the corner of the house. The guardian had long, black hair he left loose down past his shoulders, his eyes swirled with silver, and he wore dark slacks with a button-up gray shirt. Just looking at him made one think he must be the devil’s cousin rather than a breed of angel. These days, he was Lucas and Melena’s watchdog. Another reason Bartol hardly visited since it was difficult to avoid Kerbasi, who harassed anyone who arrived at the house.
In his large hands, he held a tub of chocolate chip ice cream and a spoon. The man loved to eat since he discovered the pleasures of Earthly food. Ironic, since he’d regularly starved his prisoners in Purgatory, and even when they were fed, there was little worth consuming on the desert island located in a pocket dimension.
Bartol prayed every night the archangels would make the guardian return to his old position there so he could learn what it was like to go without decent food now that he would know what he was missing. Kerbasi was only on Earth to learn compassion and humanity after it had been discovered how cruel a torturer he’d become to the nephilim put under his charge. Who knew how long that would take before the archangels deemed him rehabilitated, but it was hard to imagine it would ever happen.
“Get away from me,” Bartol said in a menacing tone.
Kerbasi lifted his thick, dark brows. “I was going to offer you some ice cream.”
“It might as well be a snake if it’s coming from you.”
The guardian let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Are you ever going to get over this grudge you have against me? It’s getting tedious.”
“I have no plans to.”
“What are you doing here?” Kerbasi gave him an inquisitive look. He was like a naughty child in a large man’s body. “We both know you never come here unless it’s urgent.”
Why couldn’t he take the hint and go away? Bartol continued up the steps and headed for the front door. “It’s none of your business.”
“Does it have something to do with Jeriel’s arrival?”
Bartol paused, telling himself he shouldn’t respond, but he couldn’t resist. “What do you know about it?”
“Never heard of him before, have you?”
“No.” He waited a moment to see if the guardian would elucidate further, but he did not. “What do you know?”
Kerbasi shook his head. “He’s been Heaven’s little secret for as long as I can remember—the one who gets the dirty jobs done. Jeriel has the ability to blend into anyplace, appear like anyone, and be invisible to everyone except sensors. It makes him a good spy against the supernatural. He’s also very strong and old, so I wouldn’t try fighting him one on one if I were you.”
Cori had told Bartol after the archangel left that she’d picked up a powerful aura around him. She’d said he had to be one of the oldest she’d encountered so far.
“He’s threatening to take away my child if I don’t work for him.” Bartol had no idea why he’d admitted that to the guardian.
Kerbasi’s brows furrowed. “I thought you were in Heaven’s good graces, especially after that job in London.”
“So did I.”
Not that he’d asked for it, but he’d already done enough for them that he shouldn’t have been required to do more.
“I’m sorry they’re threatening your child.” The guardian almost sounded like he meant it. “The innocent should be off limits if you ask me.”
“Why would it concern you?”
Kerbasi stared at him, working his jaw. “I’m a lot of things, I admit, but the one thing I’m not is cruel to children. They should be protected and cherished. They’re the only good and innocent thing this planet has to offer…aside from food.”
Bartol didn’t have time to decipher if the guardian was being honest. He had heard Kerbasi was well-behaved and protective over Lucas and Melena’s adopted daughter, Emily, and he’d healed a boy dying of leukemia. But who knew what his motives were?
He turned away from the infernal man and knocked on the door. It swung right open, Melena standing on the other side. Something told Bartol she’d been lurking there all along and listening to his and Kerbasi’s conversation. With her senses, she would have known the moment he arrived on the front lawn. The females of her race could detect all supernaturals within a half-mile radius of them, and the males a quarter mile. No one knew why there was a gender difference other than their race had been hated and hunted, so perhaps it was a defense mechanism to allow the women more time to protect their children if a threat approached.
“You heard?” he inquired.
She nodded, not appearing the slightest bit bashful about spying on them. “Lucas and I had a visit from Jeriel earlier today as well.”
“Your mate didn’t mention that when I saw him at the compound this afternoon.”
Lucas walked into the foyer. “You were in such a hurry to go to your mate that I didn’t have a chance.”
Bartol supposed he had a point there. “What does the archangel want from you?”
Lucas’ lips thinned. “He has plans to take over the compound as soon as the nerou graduate. It’s going to be his headquarters on Earth to run his operations and generally annoy us, I imagine.”